


Yellow

by thanku4urlove



Series: Soulmates - Colors [2]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Color Blindness, Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 22:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20824850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanku4urlove/pseuds/thanku4urlove
Summary: Okamoto Keito has recently moved back to Japan, after living in England for the past five years. He has a language to relearn, a new country to adjust to, and the last thing he expects is for colors to begin lighting up his world; for his soulmate to enter his life.





	Yellow

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot can be read alone, but is a companion piece to the oneshot called "Light Blue" that I wrote in 2015, so I recommend reading them both!

“First day of school!”

Keito squinted and rolled, muffling a groan with his pillow as his father, with his loud voice and excited energy, wrenched the blinds over his windows open.

“Come on! It’ll be fun. You’ll make a hundred new friends and everyone will love you.” He insisted, shaking Keito’s shoulders. That made Keito laugh a little in incredulity, rolling onto his back. Happy to see his eyes open, his dad told him one last time to get on up before retreating from the room. Keito laid against his pillows for a moment, letting the reality of the day wash over him, bringing all of his nerves with it. He’d spent the past five years at a boarding school in England, but had now moved back to Japan, living in his dad’s apartment. He loved it, loved being with his father again, but the thought of going to a new school, completely surrounded by a language that he was no longer familiar with, was terrifying.

Keito forced himself to his feet and over to his closet to get dressed. He didn't have a school uniform yet and would have to go in his own clothes, searching for the blandest outfit he could find. He would already stand out enough for just being out of uniform; he didn't want his clothing choices to make him even stranger in the eyes of his classmates. After pulling on jeans and a dark sweater, he grabbed his shoes and socks and padded into the kitchen.

His dad jumped out into the room a second later, frowning down at his own clothes.

“Does this match?” He asked. “I don’t want to look like an idiot. One of my clients yesterday told me that orange and purple don’t go together well.”

“I don’t know.” Keito responded, offering up a shrug. He couldn’t tell what was purple and what was orange any better than his dad could. Colors were still an enigma to him, the world a wash of blacks, whites, and varying shades of grey. Colors didn't appear until a person met their soulmate, and as a person that only had one or two clumsy crushes throughout their life, Keito was fully expecting to be kept waiting on this colorful world until adulthood. If he even got a soulmate at all; his expectations were low. It hadn’t happened for his father. It didn’t happen for everyone. The hope was there, always there, but if the universe simply passed over him, Keito didn’t think he would be too surprised.

The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a nerve wracking blur, and before Keito realized it his dad was dropping him off in front of his new high school.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” He asked. He looked nervous too, and Keito could tell he wanted to come in, but Keito had done this on his own before. He’d been to an entire country on his own before; he'd be fine.

“It’s alright Dad. Thanks.”

He got an encouraging smile back.

“Good luck kiddo.”

Keito exited the car, walking through the doors and into the front office. He was checked in, handed a schedule, and steered to his new classroom by a woman with a tight bun and tiny spectacles. He could hear his teacher talking behind the door, then suddenly that door opened and he was gestured inside, letting out a breath as he took a step in.

Keito looked over the sea of people staring at him, swallowing, fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. It wasn’t really a sea, per se. Maybe a lake. The entire class was staring attentively at him, and his every movement felt scrutinized; this was arguably the worst part about being the new kid.

“His name is Okamoto Keito, and he just moved here from England,” The teacher said, putting a hand on Keito’s shoulder, “so he’s the one to ask for English help.”

The teacher gave an amused little chortle at that, and Keito held in a grimace. His English might be good, sure, but Keito knew that his Japanese wasn’t, and wasn't keen on making a fool of himself if anyone asked for tutoring--a Japanese boy that couldn't even speak his native language. Thankfully though, he didn't even need to give a student introduction, the teacher pointing him in the direction of his new desk and allowing him to sit. He stepped hastily down the row with his bag, wanting to remove himself from the center of attention as soon as possible.

He nearly made it to his desk without incident, his shoe catching on the leg of his desk as he turned to sit down. He managed to catch himself on the tabletop before sliding into his chair, hoping no one had seen him stumble. The teacher had command of the class now, Keito thinking his clumsiness had gone unnoticed. Nearly; a cute boy in the desk a row above and one to the right was still looking at him, having watched him walk back. Keito felt his face heat up but the boy just smiled, and something about the brightness in his eyes had Keito smiling back, despite his embarrassment.

Keito turned to his bag, pulling out a pencil and a notebook. The teacher talked quickly, making it hard for Keito to keep up as he translated in his head, writing down things in English when he couldn’t remember the Japanese characters. As lunch began, he looked down at his half-English, half-scribbled notes with a sigh. He really needed to practice.

_“Hey man! How is it hanging?”_

The oddly loud and awkward English caught Keito’s attention, and when he turned to the sound of the noise, he nearly jumped out of his seat. The one who had spoken was the boy from earlier, the cute one that had seen his clumsy fall into his desk, and there was a large splash of… _Something_ on his desk, so bright and surreal that it almost hurt Keito's eyes. It was bewildering, and Keito was mesmerized by how lively and beautiful it was. It took a few moments for him to notice that the bright thing was actually a big bento box, and he was so distracted that he didn’t realize that the cute boy’s strange question was directed at him--and that he probably was meant to answer--until the boy began to frown in concern.

“I’m sorry?” Keito had to ask. The boy in the seat in front of Keito was turned towards him as well.

“I meant to say hi, did I not say hi?” The cute boy asked. He sounded really worried, as well as apologetic, while the other boy just looked amused.

“Why couldn’t you just greet him normally?” The classmate asked, and Keito could tell by the easy teasing that the two of them were friends.

“I wanted to try an English one! Cause, you know--”

“This is Nakajima Yuto.” The other boy said, interrupting the explanation as he gestured in the direction of his floundering classmate. Nakajima Yuto. Keito repeated the name in his mind as he looked over the cute boy, and at his bento box, so bright that it was leaving a slight reflection on the desk below it, and on the hand Yuto had resting on it. “I’m Yamada Ryosuke and I’m hungry, so…”

Yamada turned to his food, and Keito gave Yuto a hesitant smile, unsure if he should introduce himself too, despite it having already happened at the start of class.

“Sorry.” Yuto told him, and Keito shook his head. There was no need for that.

“It’s okay. I’m Okamoto Keito, and…” He didn’t have anything to say, feeling silly, but as he’d done the last time Keito had found himself blushing, Yuto smiled.

“So, you used to live in England?” He asked. Keito nodded. Before he’d come up with something to ask in return, Yamada was back, stealing Yuto’s attention.

As soon as they’d looked away Keito’s gaze went to the color chart on the front wall of the classroom, scanning it for the brightness he’d just seen. One of the squares was lit up, as though a light were shining through it, painfully distracting. It was right in the middle of a column labeled **_YELLOW_**. Keito stared for a few moments more. Yellow, on a color chart. Colors. His mind spun, and he sat in disbelief for a moment. He was seeing a color.

Had he met his soulmate? It seemed impossible, equal parts stressful and too good to be true. His eyes wandered through the classroom, wondering who it could be. In spite of himself, his gaze landed on the back of Yuto’s head again, then on Yuto’s yellow lunch box. It couldn’t be Yuto. Just because Yuto was cute and had talked to him didn’t necessarily mean anything. Things didn’t just… Happen like that.

After about a week though, Keito was beginning to allow himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things did. Yuto turned around to talk to him at least once a day, and every time he did, another shade on the _**YELLOW**_ column on the color chart shone into view, the pale end of the spectrum soft like flower petals, the deeper end bright like an energetic shout, or a loud laugh, and Keito loved yellow, always so bright and happy. He was starting to really like Yuto, too.

They didn’t do more than exchange a few simple words, the conversations not long enough to really be called “conversations” at all. Keito was grateful for them either way, finding himself smiling during his study sessions, driven to improve his vocabulary and memorize more kanji. Maybe it was silly, but Yuto made Keito want to get better at the Japanese he’d lost while living in England.

The increased studying really came in handy, the teacher assigning them an essay project a month or so into the school year. Keito wasn’t sure he could write an essay but he was going to try, checking a geography book out from the library from school the day the project was announced and sitting down, trying to translate the pages. The content was slow and dry--granted, there wasn’t much one could do to make dirt sound interesting--Keito jumping when the chair next to him was slid out from its pushed in position at the table.

“You beat me to the book I wanted.” Yuto said. Keito’s heart flipped in his chest.

“O-oh, I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s fine.” Yuto was smiling, cutting him off before he’d barely managed to stutter out anything. “I thought it would be a good book for the project, and you did too.”

“Did you want to use it?” Keito asked, already fully prepared to hand it over. Yuto shook his head.

“I mean yes, but you’re already…” Yuto sat down, and Keito’s breath caught in his throat. This was the closest to him that Yuto had ever been, and his lips shone now in a soft, sweet hue that made Keito’s heart race. “Want to just both read out of it?”

Keito nodded, sliding the book over so he and Yuto could share, Yuto pulling out a notebook with a sigh and beginning to read. Thankfully there was a color chart in the library too, right next to the checkout desk. _**PINK**_. Yuto’s lips were pink. Pink was pretty.

Keito didn’t realize he’d been staring at Yuto, not reading a single word on the book between them, until Yuto let out an exclamation. It made Keito jump again, feeling as though he’d just been pulled from a trance.

“I’m sorry! Was I bothering you?”

Keito had no idea what Yuto was talking about, shaking his head.

“Okay…” Yuto looked doubtful of his answer. “I was hitting my fingers against the table, and I know that can be annoying. Sorry. I play the drums, so it’s a bit of a habit.”

“You play the drums?”

Yuto smiled, nodding excitedly.

“I do! I have a set at home. Do you play anything?”

“Just guitar.” Keito felt as though guitar was much more common and less exciting than drums, but Yuto’s face lit up. “My dad gives lessons, and he taught me.”

“That’s cool!” Yuto sat up straighter, beaming, and Keito was struck with how cute he was. “We should jam out sometime. How long has your dad been a teacher?”

“A long time. All of my life at least, but longer than that.”

“You must be really good!”

“I-I… I don’t know.” The book on the table lit up, the cover a whole new color that Keito hadn’t seen before, startling him into stuttering. He looked at Yuto in realization, his stomach twisting as his chest constricted. Yuto was it; Yuto was his soulmate. And Keito was falling in love with him.

They talked about music, about bands, and despite the revelation and the mess of nerves in his stomach, talking to Yuto wasn’t the difficult small talk he was used to. It felt good, exciting and comfortable at the same time. When they were finally interrupted by the assistant librarian, Keito could have sworn that nearly half of the library was lit up with colors.

“Could I have your number?” Yuto asked as Keito got up to gather his stuff. Keito nearly tripped over his own feet, a happy bubble rising in his chest as he dug around to pull his cell phone from his book bag. Yuto took the phone in hand, typing out something quickly, his own phone going off as he gave Keito’s back. “Make sure you text me. We need to set up that jam session.”

Smiling and feeling a bit breathless, Keito promised that he would. They walked only a little bit farther before coming to a crossroads, Yuto saying goodbye to him with an incredibly lame set of finger guns to match. It was all Keito had to keep from swooning.

He got home with a spring in his step, trying his hardest to tame his excitement as soon as he walked through the door. His dad knew him well, and would know something was up. The last thing Keito wanted was to have his father in the know about his high school crush, but he should have known that trying to keep him in the dark was futile.

“Keito!” Kenichi didn’t even look up when he walked in, his upper body all the way over the back of the couch, looking between the couch and the wall. Keito was greeted by his father’s butt in the air, legs gripping the couch to keep from falling, and had to laugh at the silly position. “I lost my new box of bass strings, have you seen it anywhere? I’ve got to restring that old guitar tonight.”

“They’re not under there.” Keito told him, watching in amusement as his father tried to pull himself back up. Keito had seen him putting the box of strings on the shelf above their DVD collection yesterday, next to a ceramic set of purple bears playing various instruments. Kenichi usually kept strings in his bedroom so Keito had kept the information in mind, figuring that his father was likely to forget. “They’re over by the TV.”

“Where?” Kenichi walked over, looking over the shelves. “Why would I put them over here?”

“They’re right there, by the purple bear band.”

“Oh!” Kenichi spotted them, placing his hand on the box before freezing. “Wait. The _what?_”

“The…” Keito realized his mistake, flushing. “The band. The bear band.”

“You said purple.”

“Did not.”

“Did too! You said purple! You’re seeing colors and haven’t told me? Keito!” His dad rushed over, beaming and gripping his arms. “Who? Who’s the lucky guy?”

Keito’s felt as though his face was on fire.

“Dad, please, it’s really not a big--”

“Is it cute? Is he nice?” Kenichi gasped, mouth falling open at him. “Does he know? Are you dating someone and didn’t even tell me?”

“No!” Keito finally had to exclaim. “He… He doesn’t know. He’s in my class, and he, uh…” Keito held his phone up lamely. “He just gave me his phone number.”

Kenichi waggled his eyebrows so hard that Keito had to cover his face with his hands, regretting just about his entire life.

“Well?” Kenichi pulled his hands away, looking at him. “I need to know. Is he cute and nice and all that?”

“Yeah.” In spite of himself, Keito began to smile. “Yeah, he is.”

Kenichi clapped him on the back. “Good. Nothing but the best for you.”

After four self pep talks and spending a good five minutes rolling back and forth on the floor, Keito sent Yuto a text message.

_To: Yuto  
_ _Hey._

Keito threw his phone away from him, the device sliding across the carpet and landing by the leg of his desk. It buzzed almost immediately, and Keito scrambled to pick it back up.

_From: Yuto  
_ _Hi! Whatcha up to?_

Rolling around on the floor was a stupid answer, so Keito made up something quickly.

_To: Yuto  
__ Studying a little. You?_

_From: Yuto  
_ _My mom didn’t think my brother and I could eat an entire bag of gummy candies in five minutes, so I’m currently lying on the couch in pain. my stomach hurts.  
_ _You study too much, I think._

The second text came nearly half a minute after the first one, and Keito wasn’t sure how to respond.

_To: Yuto  
_ _I have to. My japanese is really bad._

_From: Yuto  
_ _Nah. I think it’s fine._

Another pause, with Keito unsure of what to say. Then,

_From: Yuto  
_ _I have an important question for you._

Keito’s stomach twisted with nerves, and he couldn’t answer fast enough.

_To: Yuto  
_ _What is it?_

_From: Yuto  
_ _Are you free this weekend? If so, you should bring your guitar over. We need to jam out, remember?_

Keito’s heart flipped in his chest, and he smiled, lying on his back and holding up his phone as he responded.

_To: Yuto  
_ _I would love to._

_From: Yuto  
__ Awesome! Then it’s a date :)_

Keito dropped his phone on his face.

They jammed at Yuto’s that weekend. Yuto’s mom made them cookies and Yuto led him into his bedroom, the place cleaned haphazardly, with various knickknacks and posters all over the place, the aforementioned drumset sitting innocently in the far left corner. Then Yuto pulled it out, hitting the foot pedal and laughing, and the walls of Yuto’s bedroom lit up in blue.

Yuto was cool when he played, loud and confident regardless of whether the notes were right or wrong. Keito would have been happy just watching him, but Yuto prompted him to join in on his guitar, playing silly half-melodies or sight-reading pieces they looked up online. Colors appeared like drum beats, and when Keito went back to school the following Monday, the color chart only had one grayed out square, a small section on the pale end of the blue column.

“Keito!” Yuto arrived with Yamada, calling out his name and waving. Keito turned quickly, because that was his first name, and Yuto hadn’t called him by his first name before. It sounded wonderful, coming from Yuto’s mouth in that happy, excited tone, and Keito realized he was already smiling back. He gave a wave in return, and when they sat down for the lesson, that greeting had done it; the entire chart was filled in.

Keito allowed himself to gravitate towards Yuto, though he doubted he could have helped it if he tried. To his pleasant surprise, Yuto indulged him--if not enabled him. It was Yuto that initiated hangouts, inviting Keito over after school to study, play instruments, or just walk around the neighborhood and talk about nothing in particular. Yuto made him smile and laugh, as bright and warm and happy as the color yellow was, and Keito loved it. Keito loved Yuto, and that realization didn’t surprise him much; thinking about it made him feel like he was glowing gold.

If he and Yuto had genuine plans, or were actually studying for something upcoming, Yuto would always ask Yamada if he wanted to come along. Keito didn’t know Yamada well, despite how much Yuto talked about him, but he seemed nice enough. But Yamada always declined the invitations, always giving some excuse that wasn’t quite believable, but leaving before Yuto could fully debate him on it. Keito began worrying, thinking Yamada didn’t like him much and unsure of how to remedy it. He wanted Yuto’s friends to like him too.

One afternoon during lunch, Keito, Yuto, and Yamada had huddled their desks together, Yuto in the middle of poorly explaining a grammar concept when Keito realized he’d been staring at him. It was the kind of staring he’d been catching himself at recently, knowing he had a dumb expression on his face and hoping that Yuto hadn’t noticed. And while Yuto didn’t, this time Yamada caught his eye and gave him a very knowing grin, jerking his head slightly in Yuto’s direction. Keito nearly swallowed his tongue, realizing what he was getting at. Yamada _knew_. Yamada knew he was in love with Yuto. Maybe the fact that Yamada was smiling instead of something else--scowling, perhaps--should be reassuring, but in truth it was nothing short of terrifying.

He expected Yamada to say something, but the confrontation never came. Yamada never indicated any intention of speaking up, aside from giving Keito a sly smile every once and awhile. It was enough to set Keito on edge, and he stopped feeling so badly when their proposed group activities always ended up being only Yuto and Keito himself.

“I think my dad is home today.” Keito warned, but Yuto just beamed.

“Finally! I can’t wait to meet him.”

Yuto was smiling, a little spring in his step while Keito tried to prepare himself mentally for what was about to happen. They were walking together to Keito’s house after school, and while Yuto had been to his home before, Keito had always been careful to schedule his visits at times when his father would be at work. He knew his dad was bound to cause a spectacle, the man bad at being subtle and keeping secrets, and his father knew everything; everything about colors and soulmates and _Yuto_. But Yuto had begun complaining about never meeting Keito’s dad, and since Kenichi had been eager to be introduced since he found out that Yuto even existed, Keito figured that he couldn’t postpone this meeting any longer. He simply had to grit his teeth and hope for the best.

His dad was behind the front door as soon as Keito opened it, almost as though he’d been waiting there for them. That was already strange, and Keito swallowed. Kenichi beamed.

“Keito! And you must be Keito’s friend, I'm glad he has one of those.”

He said the word “friend” with a bit of unnecessary emphasis, as if to imply something more, and Keito was already embarrassed. He could feel his father's excitement as he hovered around them, the energy just below the surface. Yuto thanked him for having him over and introduced himself, and as they talked a little Keito began to relax. He told his dad their plans to work on a class project, hoping he’d been able to convey that they wanted to work alone.

“Okay, fine. I won’t be a bother. I just want to say one thing.” Kenichi put a hand on Yuto’s shoulder, suddenly deadly serious. “I just want you to know that you are always welcome in our home.”

“Dad--” Keito started, because Yuto looked mildly confused by the statement.

“I mean it!” He insisted, giving Keito a smile he figured was supposed to be encouraging, and Keito resisted the urge to wince. Yuto gave him a hesitant smile.

“Thank you.” He said, and Keito took Yuto by the arm, pulling him away from the front and away from his dad, into his bedroom instead.

“He’s weird.” Keito said, hoping that would be enough to explain his father’s abnormal attitude. Kenichi was very excited and supportive of the whole soulmate thing, and while Keito was grateful for that, it wasn’t always his favorite when his dad started waxing poetic about wedding vows and grandchildren. He already wanted Yuto to be a part of the family, but that felt years and years away to Keito.

“He's cool!” Yuto exclaimed, much to Keito's surprise. “His hair is so long, and he had a leather jacket on. He's like a rockstar.”

Curiously enough, that wasn't the first time Keito had heard that comparison about his goofball of a father. He could understand the image that others had, but knew his dad too well to buy into it.

Kenichi only bothered them a couple of times after that, offering snacks and drinks and whatever else they could need, always engaging Yuto in some conversation. After a discussion about music, Kenichi’s face lit up in inspiration.

“Hey, isn’t summer break, coming up soon?” He asked. Both Keito and Yuto nodded, and Keito was struck with a sudden jolt of fear. He and his father had plans to go and visit England during the break; Yuto wasn’t about to be invited along, was he? That was a bit much.

“There’s a music festival in the city next weekend, and Keito and I are going. Do you want to come with us? I’ve got some special connections. It’ll be fun.”

The extra persuasion wasn’t necessary, Yuto already beaming and nodding excitedly.

“That sounds great! I would love to come, thank you!”

Finishing touches were put on the project not too much later, and then Yuto went home. Keito sat down next to his dad on the couch.

“Thanks for inviting him. It’ll be fun.” He said, and his dad nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, you’re going to miss him during our vacation. It’s the least I could do.”

Keito hadn’t thought about that, but he realized his dad was right. He and Yuto were spending a lot of time together; what was he going to do during the month and a half without him? It felt stupid, but he wanted to give Yuto something before before he left. Not to remember him by, per se, but still.

“Hey, dad?” Keito pointed to the necklace his dad had on, a simple guitar pick on a chain. “You’ve made one of these for me before, could you teach me how to make one?”

Keito hadn't expected the action of giving Yuto the necklace he had to be so embarrassing. But he also hadn’t expected to be stumbling out of the car and tripping over his own feet as he tried to give it to Yuto and nearly falling down, being caught around the shoulders. Colors always seemed even brighter when Yuto touched him, and it definitely didn’t help Keito regain his footing. But he managed it, and once he was steady, he held the necklace out. It wasn’t in a jewelry box or anything, Keito not wanting it to seem weird about it, but was now in the middle of wondering if just handing Yuto a loose necklace was weirder when Yuto’s face completely lit up.

“For me?” He asked in excitement, taking the necklace from Keito’s hands. It was a regular chain with Keito’s favorite guitar pick strung on it, and when Keito nodded, Yuto put it on immediately, holding it up and continuing to stare at it. “Wait… Keito, this guitar pick is yours, isn’t it? Did you make this?”

Keito reached into his shirt, pulling out a similar necklace.

“Yeah. They’re not really that hard to make, or anything; my dad taught me.”

Keito suddenly became aware of his dad, the man having left the car now too and was staring at them. He stuffed the necklace back in his shirt in a rush.

“Isn’t this like… Your favorite pick though?” Yuto continued, a light frown on his face now.

“I wanted you to have it.” Keito said in answer, and Yuto pulled him in for a hug.

“I love it.” He said earnestly. Keito’s heart raced, Yuto’s proximity and the honesty in his words making a warmth fill his chest. “Thank you.”

“Do we want to go in?” Kenichi asked. He pointed down the street, past the parking lot, where the festival was already in full swing. “Or do you two want to be left alone…?”

“No!” Keito said quickly. He could feel his face burning, but he was too happy to feel too abashed by it all; Yuto liked the necklace. Yuto had hugged him. “Let’s go.”

The festival was fun. There were live bands and large crowds, a good few of the musicians people Keito had met at least once. His dad got them a lot of backstage access with various people, and every time they got any sort of exclusive treatment it made Yuto giddy, giggling in excitement and gripping onto Keito’s arm.

It was a day of meeting people and making first impressions--or second, though the firsts hadn’t usually been remembered--and a great deal of walking, and as a result, Keito fell asleep in the car on the ride home. He hadn’t meant to do it, but it was nearing one in the morning and Yuto’s shoulder had been right there, the perfect height and very easy to rest on. He barely remembered getting home, being walked into the house and laughed at by both Yuto and his father, making his way to his bed and collapsing again. He woke up uncomfortable, cold, and very much late for school, trying to change from his jeans and t-shirt into a clean school uniform and brush his teeth at the same time. He rushed out into the kitchen, looking incredibly untucked and disheveled, his father looking up at him over a coffee cup and raising his eyebrows.

“What are you doing, son?”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Keito asked back, slightly winded. “We need to go right now; I’m late for school!”

“You don’t have school today.” Kenichi countered. “It’s summer break, right?”

Keito gave him a hopeless look. “That doesn’t start until next week!” He exclaimed, hurrying over to the door in the hopes that it would prompt his father to start moving.

“Oh. Whoops.”

“...whoops?” Keito asked hesitantly, a part of him wondering if he even wanted to know. His father laughed a little.

“I was so convinced that your summer break started today! I… I booked the plane tickets for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

His dad nodded, and Keito realized that they weren’t changing the date or getting a refund. His dad still intended to leave tomorrow, and Keito set his backpack down on the table.

“I guess I should get packing then, huh.”

“That would be the wise move. I’ll call the school and tell them you have the elephant flu, or something like that.”

“Elephant flu?”

“If birds can have the flu, so can elephants.”

Hoping the school wouldn’t think it was a prank call, Keito went back to his room. He waited until it was lunch time to give Yuto a call. He would need some way to keep from falling behind, considering all of the schoolwork he was about to miss.

Yuto picked up quickly, his voice bright.

“Hey!”

“I have a request.”

“Anything.”

The answer was so absolute, so earnest and immediate and full of conviction, that Keito felt his mind going blank, everything he’d ever learned about Japanese grammar flying out the window.

"...I was wondering if, for me if could you, I..."

“Keito?” Yuto laughed, Keito doing his best to collect himself. Thankfully, when he spoke again, he managed to keep his words in the right order.

“Sorry.” Keito had to take a deep breath in. "I'm actually going to be missing school for the rest of the week."

“Why?” Yuto asked, the frown audible in his voice. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, nothing like that.” Keito explained the series of events that had lead to his current predicament, Yuto readily agreeing to asking the teachers for the school work he’d need while he was gone. He came over directly after school laden with worksheets, plopping it down on his desk when he walked in.

“Here’s your schoolwork. How’s your packing going?”

Keito looked over the suitcase, only half full with a few carefully constructed outfits. He laughed a bit.

“It’s alright.”

“Where exactly are you going?”

Keito explained about visiting his old classmates, and seeing some of the French countryside. His father had promised Keito this trip as soon as he had moved back to Japan; Keito didn’t want to lose the ties he’d made in England.

“Are you really going to be gone for seven weeks?” Yuto asked. He sounded like he was trying very hard not to be upset, and it made something tug at Keito’s chest. He didn’t want Yuto to miss him--he wanted Yuto to enjoy his own summer break, and have fun without him--but it was nice to think that his presence made such a difference in Yuto’s life. It was nice to think that maybe, Yuto would miss Keito as much as Keito would miss him. Keito thought that might be a bit impossible, but still.

“Yeah. We’re not even getting back until really late on Sunday, so Dad says I don’t have to go on Monday if I don’t want to, but I will. I’ll want to see you.”

Yuto smiled, bright and happy, and Keito loved making him smile like that, feeling a heat rising to his cheeks. Unwilling to let himself look too embarrassed in front of Yuto, Keito walked back to his closet. He leafed through the clothes to get something for Yuto to wear, since he was still dressed for the school day, picking out a big light blue t-shirt and his longest pair of sweatpants.

“Did you want to change out of your school uniform?” He asked. He got a nod in response, tossing the clothes over. Yuto looked good in casual clothes, and Yuto looked good in his clothes, and Keito was a bit surprised when Yuto never asked him about the english scrawled across the front of the shirt, though he was glad for it, too. He didn’t want to tell Yuto he was walking around with ‘Mr. Flawless’ written across his chest. Not that the shirt was wrong.

Keito hugged Yuto as tightly as he could when they dropped him off at his house that night, and when the plane took off, it felt as though he was leaving a part of his heart behind.

Keito had fun. He couldn’t say he didn’t; it was wonderful to see everyone again, and watching his English friends and his dad meet each other was extremely amusing. He ended up at a sleepover, and it was weaseled out of him by James that he could see colors now, prompting a tale about Yuto to everyone. They were happy and supportive, his heart stopping a bit when James stole his phone and sent a text without his knowledge. Thankfully, Yuto didn’t seem to understand, and Keito was able to play it off as his friends being silly.

He tried to keep Yuto updated, sending him texts and pictures, wanting him to know that he was being thinked about, even though they were so far away. Because it felt far. The time difference was rough, conversations taking hours and often abandoned due to their opposite sleeping schedules. It made Keito miss him, miss him a lot, and on their train ride to France, Keito ended up lamenting to his father about it.

“Then call him.” Kenichi said simply. He was leaning against the back of their bench, eyes half open, seemingly being lulled to sleep by the motion of the train as it took them through the European countryside.

“I can’t! It’s nearly midnight there. I wouldn’t want to wake him up.”

“Would you feel better if you talked to him?”

Keito frowned a little.

“Yes, but--”

“Then call him! Not for nothing, Keito, but I think he’d love to hear from you too.”

And that seemed to be the end of that, Keito watching in dissatisfaction as his father pulled his hat down to cover his eyes, slumping back and putting his feet up. With a sigh, Keito took his cell phone from his pocket. He read over he and Yuto’s recent text conversation, at the lackluster and late messages, his thumb hovering over the ‘call’ button. Then he tapped it.

“Hello?”

Yuto sounded a bit strange, and Keito desperately hoped he hadn’t woken him up. He had to ask, his heart soaring when Yuto answered.

“Oh, no. It would have been fine if you had anyway. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“It’s nice to hear yours too.” Keito said, because it really, really was. It was so nice to hear Yuto. The sound of his voice made something in his chest ache, in a good and bad way all at once; it was great to hear from him, but it also just reminded Keito of how far apart they were.

“So, France?” Yuto asked. “Do you know any French?”

“A little bit. Enough to keep us from getting too lost.” Keito glanced out the train window. It was really amazing to see the European countryside now that he could see it all in color, to see the hair and eye colors of all of his old friends and enjoy the aesthetics of all the old buildings. But every step of the way, he wished Yuto were here. A sudden urge rose within him, and Keito blamed the distance because the thought was so terrifying that he had to blame something, but he felt himself wanting to carry through with it all the same.

He wanted to tell Yuto how he felt.

“Tell me something in French, then.”

The words slipped out before he realized that he was going to say them.

_“Je t’aime.”_

Yuto giggled a bit at the foreign words. “What does it mean?”

It meant ‘I love you’, but every time Keito tried to get the Japanese past his lips, his voice died in his throat. He was too nervous; too afraid of destroying what they already had. Besides, it didn’t feel right not to say something like that in person. Finally, he gave up.

“Nice shoes.” he said instead, and to his delight, Yuto laughed. They had a silly conversation about that until Keito heard the conductor say they were coming up on their stop, and he told Yuto he had to go.

“I may or may not be wearing the shirt you lent me, and I miss you a lot.” Yuto said, his voice soft and a little sleepy. Butterflies erupted in Keito’s chest.

“I miss you a lot too. Bye, Yutorin.”

“Bye Keito.”

Keito hung up, closing his phone and holding it close to his chest. When he glanced up, he caught his father looking at him, a knowing smile on his face.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

Kenichi reached over, looking sympathetic as he ruffled Keito’s hair. Keito hadn’t had his hair ruffled in years, not since he was a little kid, the feeling nostalgic as he tried to tug some of the strands back into place.

“You really like this kid, don’t you?” Kenichi asked him.

“I… Yeah. I do.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be home soon.”

It didn’t feel soon. The following three days were painfully long, despite how pretty France was. To make everything worse, they got held up for hours upon hours at the airport. It made the travel back exhausting, and they didn’t get home until three in the morning, but Keito still made sure that his school uniform was laid out on his desk and his alarm was set before collapsing into bed. He was going to school tomorrow. He had to see Yuto.

His father didn’t get the memo. He was perplexed as to why Keito was awake--”You’re seriously going to try to learn with this little sleep in your brain?”--trying to argue Keito into going back to bed. But it didn’t work, and while a little late, Keito hurried through the classroom doors. Almost as soon as he entered his eyes met Yuto’s, his heart rate going double as soon as he saw him. Yuto didn’t smile, or say hi, simply staring for a few moments. Keito’s arms were open and Yuto ran into them, Keito holding him tightly and letting out a sigh of breath.

It was as though Yuto belonged there, in his arms, pressed close to his chest. When they stepped apart, Yuto’s expression was strange--not quite a smile, almost in wonderment.

“Hi.” Keito said, finding his voice quiet in his throat, and Yuto looked into his eyes, a smile splitting his face.

“Hi.”

Yuto seemed a bit distracted that day, looking around, and looking at him more often than usual. While Keito didn’t really mind it, it did make him feel slightly self-conscious, especially paired with the scrutinizing looks he kept getting from Yamada.

When the school day ended Yuto all but jumped him, slinging an arm around Keito’s shoulders.

“Want to come to my house?” He offered, and it was impossible for Keito to say no. Not that he would want to. He didn’t want to leave Yuto’s side, not even when the sun had gone down and dinner was well over and they were on the floor together in Yuto’s room. Yuto was staring at him again, jumping into a sitting position when his mother walked in.

“When is Keito going back home?” She asked, not unkindly. Yuto’s face fell into a frown.

“Could he spend the night? Please? Please Mom? I know it’s a week day and sleepovers are only for weekends but I missed him so much! And Keito’s so responsible, we’ll go to school tomorrow--and we don’t even have any homework!”

It only took a few more minutes of coaxing, Mrs. Nakajima saying that if Keito’s father agreed to it, then it would be okay. Keito called his dad to get permission, and within minutes his father had driven over with a clean school uniform and his toothbrush. Keito jogged out to meet him, thanking him as he approached.

“Of course!” He exclaimed, handing the items over. “Make sure to thank the Nakajimas for their hospitality.”

“I already have.”

“And if you don’t want to go to school tomorrow, just let me know. I’ll make something up to tell the school.”

Keito let out a breath through his nose. “I’m going to go to school, Dad.”

“And make sure you use protection!”

Keito didn’t even try to respond to that, his face red as a tomato as he slammed the car door in his father’s face and started back inside. They laid out on Yuto’s bed later, Keito feeling very comfy in Yuto’s large clothes, Yuto insisting Keito tell him all about his trip. Halfway through Keito’s recount of the tour he’d taken of his old school, a weight dropped onto his shoulder. Yuto was resting against him, and once Keito had gotten his heartbeat back under control, he was worried he’d bored his friend to sleep.

“Yutorin?”

“I’m awake.” Yuto declared, as though he’d read Keito’s mind. “I’m just… It’s so nice to hear your voice.”

He sounded content, and a bit sleepy as well, but there was in a smile in his voice. Keito swallowed.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I should have called you more, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“That would have been okay!” Yuto exclaimed, his head lifting slightly off Keito’s shoulder in his excitement, just to rest there again, his whole body snuggling slightly closer. “Plus, if I didn’t pick up, you could have left a voicemail. Then I could listen to your voice whenever I wanted to.”

“Oh.” Butterflies were flying through Keito’s veins, and there was that urge again, the desire to tell Yuto how he felt. “I… I’ll remember that, for next time.”

“Next time?” Yuto fully sat up at that, his indignant expression making Keito laugh despite all of his nerves. “You’re not leaving me again, Keito.” He rested back down, laying on his side now instead of his back, his forehead pressing into Keito’s shoulder, taking one of Keito’s hands with both of his own and playing with his fingers. “Take me with you, next time.”

Yuto glanced up, their eyes meeting, and Keito squeezed Yuto’s fingers with his own.

“Okay.”

Things felt a bit different after that. Keito didn’t think he acted any different; if he did, Yuto didn’t mention it. But Yuto was a little strange, somehow both easily distracted and spacing out, asking questions that Keito found himself dancing around. He seemed to have a newfound interest in colors, and Keito was terrified of slipping up like he had with his father and admitting that he could see them. Soulmates were messy, and just because he was in love with Yuto didn’t mean that Yuto would ever fall in love with him. Keito didn’t want to ruin what he and Yuto had; that would ruin the best thing in his entire life.

But a part of him, a small, hopelessly romantic part of him, couldn’t help but suggest that maybe, just maybe, Yuto liked him back. Maybe Yuto was asking color questions because he was seeing colors. Maybe Yuto’s staring wasn’t really spacing out after all. It made him feel silly, immature and self-centered and even slightly stressed because it wasn’t a theory he could just dismiss, knowing that soon, he had to say something. The urge was getting stronger and stronger; his desire to tell Yuto how he felt.

He always chickened out, though. It was frustrating and nerve-racking all at once, Keito getting so worked up one weekend that he started to clean his room. He unpacked his suitcase and did some laundry, finding Yuto’s guitar pick necklace on his desk as he did and putting it carefully on his bedside table. He ended up in the kitchen, throwing together a bowl of chocolate chip cookies before he even realized what he was doing. His cell phone buzzed on the kitchen counter and he rushed to answer it.

It was Yuto, sounding slightly flustered and asking if he could come over. Keito said yes, of course, assuming his friend probably wanted to reclaim the piece of homemade jewelry.

They both ended up being distracted by Keito’s half finished bowl of cookie dough, eating what had to be a full third of the dough before they managed to get any cookies in the oven. But it was fun, Keito turning to Yuto when they were finished.

“Are you here for your necklace?” He asked.

“...what?” Yuto asked back, blinking at him.

“You left your necklace last time you came over.” Keito explained, realizing his sudden switch of topics. He started to his room to retrieve it, Yuto following after him. He picked the necklace up, holding it as he turned back. “Here.”

He couldn’t resist then, reaching up with one half of the clasp in each hand, putting his arms around Yuto’s neck as he latched the necklace in place.

“There.”

Yuto was still, Keito unwilling to move his arms from around Yuto’s neck. He wanted to say something, feeling a tension in the room, but didn’t know how to break the silence.

“Keito--” Yuto said, his voice sudden and slightly unsure, Keito glancing at him and meeting his eyes. Yuto’s expression left him breathless, despite it being no more than a look; Keito felt like the only person in the world in Yuto’s eyes, and before he could say a word, Yuto leaned in and kissed him.

Yuto’s lips were sure and incredibly soft, Keito unable not to lean into his touch, reaching up with his hand, his fingers grazing Yuto’s cheek. He wanted to be closer, because this was where he belonged, kissing the person he loved.

Yuto looked starstruck as he pulled back, his eyes searching Keito’s own, words spilling from his lips in a desperate rush.

“Keito, have you been seeing colors too?”

_Seeing colors too._ Keito’s heart swelled, the happiness pouring from his chest and pulling his lips into a smile. Seeing colors. Yuto loved him back. He nodded, curling his fingers tighter around the back of Yuto’s neck.

“Since the day I met you.”


End file.
